Chapter 2: To Hearth of Dale
‘We can build cities, kingdoms and empires all we want, but when nature rises against us with full force, we are reminded that the greatness we can achieve is only as much as we are allowed to.’ Philosophical Lessons from Utyirth (Volume I: Commodore).
1
Just as the distant lands of Utyirth appeared in the horizon, a violent storm raged behind the Siren’s Tear. Commodore Habitus and his crew attempted to outrun the indiscriminate force of nature, but it proved to be an impossible feat. The storm’s fury caught up with the Sennan vessel in spite of the experienced crew’s effort.
Untrained and unused to sailing, the Parthans were incapable of offering any assistance during this time of crisis, hence they were ordered to remain in their quarters, an embarrassing gesture to Pertinax. The sea was rough on the imperial ship, but it was not violent enough to damage the sturdy ironwood hull. Commodore Habitus’ ship remained intact in spite of nature’s show of force.
The storm, threatening as it was, pushed the Siren’s Tear towards Utyirth’s rocky eastern shores, crashing it into the boulder-riddled shores. Wooden planks remained intact, but some of the iron screws holding them had come undone.
Once the ship was firmly wedged amidst the rocks, Commodore Habitus took a head count of all his crew and guests. A lifetime spent at sea gave the crew the necessary skills to assure the survival of their guests in spite of the disaster. Fate, it seemed, deemed it too early to start claiming the lives of Parthans.
Pertinax offered to aid the Imperial Commodore, but his offer was refused, once more, due to the lack of necessity for additional men to manage this crisis.
“Are you certain that you can spare our assistance?” Pertinax asked.
“I have all the hands I need here. As long as we do not run out of rom or heaven’s weed, the repairs will proceed as planned. Besides, we only need to salvage the ironwood planks that washed ashore and return them to their intended place.” He casually pointed his thumb at the ship behind him.
“Their mission has been completed. It’s time that we work on finishing ours as well,” Ganis suggested to Pertinax. Her hunger had grown fierce over the duration of the voyage. The blood of mice and escaped rodents was barely enough the sustain her.
“I agree with your companion, Captain Pertinax.”
Glad by Ganis’ initiative, Pertinax smiled and added, “Then off we go?”
The ten companions quickly packed what little they had and took their first steps away from the shore. Snow covered the tops of the trees, but the land was free from flakes, for the salty ocean waters were more resistant to the cold than the tree-produced dew.
The Parthans were cold and poorly dressed for the conditions they faced. Nevertheless, fortune was on their side with the dense forest ahead filled with enough fuel to prepare a warming fire and wildlife to offer meat and furs.
“What now, captain?” Ganis eagerly asked. She investigated her companion’s intentions to look for an opportunity to sink her teeth in a juicy animal, one rich with her much-needed blood. The journey had left her without a proper meal since their departure from Nosgard, and the urge was becoming difficult to control.
“We carefully head inland. I need everyone to look for any materials we can use to better prepare ourselves against the cold and threatening foes.” He pulled his cloak tight around him and fastened it with the straps within. “Other than our hunting daggers, we have no weapons to defend ourselves.
“Percival and Dindrane will look for branches and wood to make bows. Ninazu will gather samples of the indigenous plants to test them for usefulness. Monolos will send his hawk, Screo, to scout ahead of us and direct us away from danger. The rest will remain to keep an eye on any surprises we might encounter.” Realizing that he was not familiar with Ganis’ abilities, Pertinax looked at her intently and asked, “What are you skilled at?”
“Tracking and hunting. We will need food and furs. I’m certain that in this forest I can find a decent meal fairly quickly.” Ganis’ skills in tracking and hunting had been sharpened even further after she was reborn by Asclepius’ hand, yet none of the others knew the extent of her skill.
“As we are not desperate for food to sacrifice safety, I prefer you remain by us,” although Pertinax’s response was casual, it was the first order he gave to Ganis – and she knew it.
“I see the wisdom in this choice.” I can still manage a few more days of fasting, she convinced herself.
With no need to convey the orders to the members of the Ona - one of the many advantages their bond gave them - the Parthans commenced their journey within the uncharted lands.
The perilous journey to maintain the peace and safety of Nosgard had only just begun, for none of them was prepared to face the challenges ahead.
2
The forests grew denser as the Ona advanced further inland. The long trees covered a vast area, marking it with their shadows, and skeletal shrubs appeared from beneath the snow. Sections of the forest’s floor were covered in patches of snow and leaves. Although the cold was harsh, many trees continued to grow green and the forest was buzzing with life.
Careful treading, and Thalia’s calligraphy skills, allowed the Parthans to roughly map the layout of the land they had covered, offering them ample time for their side-tasks. By the time they reached their temporary camping site, enough materials and knowledge about the forest was gathered to ensure the group’s survival.
Ninazu collected a large amount of herbs, which he stocked in pockets he had stitched into the inner layer of his cape. Due to similarities in the smell, color and shape of other plants existing in Nosgard, the dark bearded man was able to identify many uses for several specimens he had collected.
Percival and Dindrane, the red-haired twins, gathered ten long fallen tree branches to make bows. On the march, Dindrane plucked strands of her red hair and made her bow’s string with them. The abundance of wood made it unnecessary to collect additional branches for arrows.
Monolos, the tanned man with black hair, sent Screo to scout up ahead. The hawk reported no humanoids, but several deer. Screo took no rest between his scouting commands and reported in regular intervals, grey eyes never blinking. The animal handler kept a close watch on any useful beasts he could have trained and made use of, but found none.
Hephaestion had closely inspected the terrain and wildlife surrounding them to develop a plan for the construction of their temporary camp. It did not take long for the chestnut-haired tactician to determine the materials and amount of time required to complete the crude structures.
Ganis noticed that her priestess companion, Eirene, held a statue of Pax, carved out of a white wood with a calm smiling Alvian face, in her hand. She whispered prayers as she caressed the statue’s face with her thumb.
“I still find it ironic that a soldier like you prays to the God of Peace.”
“I am not a soldier. I am a priestess.” Her fair face carried a gentle smile, covered only by the occasional stray strand of her long black hair swinging with a lone breeze.
“It’s still ironic; praying for peace while acting for death.”
“Death is not contradictory to peace,” she noted. “You do have a valid point, but once the way of Pax is revealed to you, it will make sense.” Eirene maintained her soothing smile on her face while addressing her companion. She had no intention to sound condescending and talked softly to Ganis.
“Is it not against Pax’s will to shed blood?”
“Pax leads us to the way of eternal peace and salvation. Although my methods might seem contradictory, they do eventually lead to salvation. However, I still pray to be forgiven for the injustices I might have ignorantly caused.”
“Why?” Distracted by a motion she sensed deep within the forest, Ganis looked to her right and asked yet again, “Why?” The hunger was growing too fierce to control.
“Because the suffering I had caused cannot be forgiven without sincere guilt and
remembrance. If I make a habit of taking lives, then I stand to forget how valuable they are.” Eirene looked at the disturbance which grasped Ganis’ attention and asked, “What is it?”
“I just found my game. Monolos’ hawk reported correctly. This forest is indeed filled with deer. Once we reach camp, I will bring you this deer.” She pointed at the general area where her sight was fixed - her true intentions well hidden.
“It is impressive that you can mark a target from such a distance. Now, Ganis, do you wish to be enlightened about any other spiritual matter?”
“No. I need to focus with this deer,” investing a great deal of effort to suppress the urge to feed on her faithful comrade, Ganis concluded the conversation and distanced herself.
Just before the sun was about to set, Pertinax gave the order to set up camp. The tireless Ona had managed to travel a long distance since the Siren’s Tear had crashed. Finally they had the opportunity to use that which they gathered. Almost instinctively, the Parthans started working on their assignments immediately.
As Ganis headed out to hunt the deer she had marked earlier - and to feed – the blue-eyed Thalia approached her to offer aid in the hunt.
“Hephaestion informed me that that you are to bring us dinner. Nothing builds a better bond between women like hunting.” Her braided yellow hair swung violently as she gestured dramatically.
“I thought fist fights were better.” She smiled. Please let me go.
“Yes they do, but it doesn’t help me prove my point.” Thalia leaned on a tree, snow piling by the protruding roots of the tree making the difficult gesture seem forced to Ganis.
“I’ll do this alone. It’s somewhat of a personal test.” The hunger made it difficult to conjure a better excuse.
“You’re a very interesting person, Ganis. Perhaps the Wolf Emperor’s suggestion to bring you along will end up teaching me a thing or two. Good luck.” She pushed herself away from the tree and stumbled back in place, shaking her single yellow braid back in place as she turned, Thalia walked away.
With no further delays, Ganis sought out the marked deer. Unlike other hunters, Ganis tracked her prey by scent. The irresistible sweet nectar of life flowing inside the deer’s veins caused her to hastily run towards it.
Once Ganis was at a safe distance from her comrades, she unleashed her Dark Gift and covered the distance between the deer and herself in a fraction of the time it would take any other of her companions.
The animal had no chance to react and found Ganis suddenly at its throat. It was a young deer at mating age, a prey many hunters would ignore, but to Ganis it was just food. The bloodlust took over and her feeding frenzy began.
After spending the voyage feeding on the occasional rat she came across, the deer’s pumping blood felt like a royal feast as it rushed into her parched throat, gradually quenching her thirst with each dying heartbeat. The moroi was finally properly fed and ready for the dangers to come.
3
Ganis returned to the camp far quicker than any human could manage, given the enormous distance she travelled. In order to maintain her true identity secret, she had prepared an explanation to justify her speedy return.
Because the efficient Ona had set the temporary campsite at a far quicker pace than Ganis anticipated, she momentarily thought that she had lost hear bearing and stumbled upon another group. Trouble?
Five round huts built with wooden branches, leaves and snow had been hastily constructed around a campfire. What was but a brief clearing when Ganis first set out for the deer had become a rudimentary camp for the outlanders.
Relieved after seeing the Parthans finishing the final stages of the construction, Ganis abandoned her hiding spot and proceeded to report her catch to Thalia. A pot made from an unusually conveniently shaped rock had ingredients boiling in it in preparation for Ganis’ catch.
“You finally returned! We’re starving!” as soon as she saw Ganis approach, Thalia remarked. “Impressive! You can carry that deer on your back so easily. Even with our runes it would be a challenge for any of us. I wonder what Asclepius taught you at Katabasis.” Thalia’s suspicions unintentionally slipped from her hasty tongue. She covered it well with her casual tone, but not without Ganis taking notice.
“I’ve been training a great deal to prepare for this mission.” Ganis dropped her catch violently, releasing a wild thump as it struck the icy ground.
Thalia immediately unsheathed her dagger and began skinning the beast. As soon as enough skin had been removed to allow the cutting of a large chunk of meat, Thalia sliced some of the carcass’ meat and threw it into the boiling stew, with little regard to splashing its contents. Continuing skinning and cutting the beast, she said, “So you knew about this mission a while ago?”
“Not this mission, but a mission. Lord Asclepius deemed it necessary for my training to undergo a quest of sorts.”
After having thrown another chunk of meat into the cooking pot, ensuring that there was enough to satiate the entire Ona, Thalia proceeded with the skinning in a much more artistic manner. She patiently ran her dagger between the skin and muscle of the beast as her free hand pulled to separate the hide.
“Emperor Servak has been generous with giving away titles,” Thalia said, “naming many new lords and dukes. I also hear that he intends to make these titles inheritable.”
“How do you know of such things?”
Laughing at the matter merrily, she replied with a tune, “Before the light of my memory shone, I was implanted with much known. Once my second life began, it was clear how much its span.”
“That’s a rather annoying way of saying that you don’t know.”
“I need to work on this tune. People need a song to remember my greatness.” She cut another smaller chunk of meat and threw it in the pot.
For a while Ganis observed her comrade skinning the deer. In spite of her experience with leather, she was impressed by Thalia’s skill. The ease of her motions while separating the carcass’ components made the tedious and tiresome process appear to be pleasant. Before completely skinning the animal’s hide, Thalia used a rope she had prepared earlier to hang the corpse. Shortly afterwards, she gutted the animal and started cutting small pieces of meat to preserve. A dear was quite the catch. Nothing was wasted by the Parthans.
“Thank you for bleeding the animal while bringing it here.”
Ganis was relieved that her attempt to hide her feeding marks was successful. “An experienced hunter always prepares as much as possible while on the move.”
“No they don’t. But experienced soldiers do.” She smiled, yellow hair swinging as she worked. “I imagined you to be more of a clumsy hunter that would puncture a beast’s skin beyond repair.”
“Just cook in silence.” They both shared a smile.
Of all the Parthans, Ganis felt her bond with Thalia growing the strongest. She knew that it was important for an Ona, but she was still far from being one with them.
Pertinax approached the two women and spoke. “Ganis, are you familiar with the Parthan Ona watch system?”
“Rotate groups of watches consisting of two members thrice a night?”
“That is one of the systems we use, and the one we will apply tonight. Because you have not yet been attuned to us, I would like you to keep watch with Eirene. She should be the easiest to attune to.”
Not completely understanding Pertinax’s justification, Ganis nodded agreeably. Once Pertinax walked away and entered his hut, Ganis asked of Thalia, “Which one of these five huts is mine?”
“I believe that the one to the left has not been occupied yet.” Thalia smiled menacingly. “You will share it with her holiness.”
“I hope her blind faith is not contagious. I would hate to wake up the next morning and find myself yearning for a white wooden statue of some disproportionate Alvian.”
Taking offence in the Ganis’ words, Thalia replied, as any devout servant of Pax would, “I know that I constantly make fun of the
priestess and her obsessive praying, but Pax is our deity and you should not berate him unless you are a follower of our ways. I also think that faith will go a great deal with someone that possesses your potential.”
To avoid any unnecessary hindrances, Ganis decided to hold her thoughts regarding the Ona’s religion. She apologized, excused herself, and headed to her tent where she rested. When it was time to serve the cooking broth, Ganis claimed that she would rather rest until it was time for her guard duty with Eirene. Her decision was not contested by the hungry Parthans.
4
It did not take long for the Ona to prepare some rudimentary weapons. Using wood from their surrounding trees and hides from animals, the twins made bows, quivers and arrows while Thalia made warm armor. However, for melee weapons they only had sharpened staves prepared. Thalia insisted that the staves would not be called speared not to disgrace the Parthan weapon of choice.
With no purpose to remain stationed in the campsite prepared earlier, Pertinax decided it was time to continue marching further inland. Once the command was given, whatever they could salvage from the camp was quickly packed. The rest destroyed.
Debris from the huts were scattered and covered-up as much as possible, within the limits of time.
The same marching tactic applied earlier was used to guide the Ona’s path. Screo scouted ahead while the others kept a watchful eye for anything useful they came across.
Suddenly, as they headed further inland, a threat appeared. Preoccupied by her thoughts of assimilating, a beast’s presence escaped Ganis.
“Battle formation!” after being alarmed by a snarling charging hound, Pertinax shouted.
In a flash of a moment, the Parthans prepared their bows and stood in a circular defensive formation, granting them a complete vision range covered among the warriors. Still not attuned to her comrades, Ganis left a gap in the formation that was accounted for by Hephaestion’s quick reaction.
“What is it?” Ganis asked as she drew her hunting dagger.
“We sensed a threat. Join the formation quickly!” He gestured with his arm for her to fill an empty spot within the ranks.
As she prepared to join her allies, a large brown hound charged at the unaware moroi. Her reflexes allowed her to dodge the beast, but not to land a killing blow. Jumping past its target, the fearsome hound found itself facing the merciless Sigurd who stabbed it in the eye and through its skull, felling the beast.
“At ease!” Pertinax commanded. “Ganis, your reaction hinders us. Until you get used to fighting alongside us, we will use a nine-man formation. Just make certain we cover your back while we coordinate our attacks according to yours.” Although Pertinax expected his new companion to quickly fit in, he realized that the prospect was overly optimistic.
“Understood, captain.” Without uttering a word, Ganis leaped into the bushes and outside the sight of her comrades. “I found something interesting. Monolos, come here!”
Getting closer to Ganis’ veiled spot, the Parthans noticed three small furry objects clumsily moving and exerting small unthreatening growls. A closer look revealed them to be three young pups.
“That’s a grim sight indeed,” cried Monolos. The beast-handler bent a knee and approached the younglings carefully, reaching out to them.
“Leave them and let us go,” Pertinax cold-heartedly ordered. Ganis had not expected this reaction, but she often saw kind men become cruel officers when their duties demanded it.
Knowing his captain’s heart, Monolos picked one of the brown pups and held it to his face. “I know that we have decided not to interfere with what concerns us not, but now that we already meddled, should not we atone for our deeds and give these children a fighting chance before releasing them to the mercy of wilderness?” Although he held the pup up to Pertinax, kind Monolos intended for his speech to address all his companions.
“I believe that this action would be deemed favorable by the disciples of Pax,” Eirene calmly added, serene smile never parting her fair face.
“These siblings should be tended to at this age. We second the plea of our brother,” the red-haired Dindrane spoke for both Percival and herself. He simply nodded agreeably.
With no other objections, Pertinax agreed, “Very well. They are your concern now. Once they grow, we will speak once more to decide on what to make of them. Yet I hope that our journey will not last so long.”
“That’s an interesting development. Are you sure you can tame them?” Ganis asked of Monolos.
“Judging by the size and attitude of their mother as well as the absence of others of their species, these hounds are not pack animals. This characteristic will prevent the need to establish dominance, but might reduce their potential for loyalty. There’s simply no way I can deduce more from what little I’ve gathered. Yet this would provide us with an opportunity to closely study one of the indigenous species of these lands.”
Ganis observed the brown pups carefully. She noticed that each had a distinct eye color; yellow, blue and brown. The three hounds trembled with fear and cold as Monolos approached to hold them. One by one, the Parthan placed the pups inside his shirt to warm them.
“What if they decide to pee or stool?” disgusted by the foul odor emanating from them, Ganis asked.
“They’ll soon learn how to handle these issues. Till then, we will endure the inconveniences of parenthood. This is the least we could do after slaying their mother, the one responsible for taking care of such inconveniences.”
The band resumed their travel after the short halt. It did not take the hawk long to return to his master and report the area up ahead. As soon as it arrived, Monolos introduced it to the pups. The avian curiously looked at his new siblings and gently pecked at their heads. Driven by instinct and training combined, it hunted small critters and insects to feed the puppies whenever it flew back.
“Running across wild beasts, our gentle soul avoids feasts. To care and watch for helpless pups who might appear as different cubs…” Thalia continued to meaninglessly sing and rhyme during the remainder of their eventless walk towards their unidentified destination, inland.
5
The Parthans had traveled a long way, and since their arrival, they had not met any natives. Little did they know that this was about to change.
Screo reported a small group of men exceeding their own numbers by two. After a moment’s worth of contemplation Pertinax decided that the opportunity to establish contact outweighed the risks of being attacked.
The seasoned warriors headed towards the party with great caution. Their movements were harmonious and well prepared; a result from a lifetime of intensive training. Ganis was ordered to remain behind them while they sneaked towards the armed strangers.
Hardened faces and armored attire exposed the strangers as fighters, in Pertinax’s eyes at least.
The dozen armed men bearing crude and rusty iron weaponry were oblivious to their impending fate. Their leather and padded armor and rusty helmets would prove little hindrance to the Parthans, even though they themselves were not armed any better. Their attitude and lack of coordination betrayed their identity as mere bandits who made a living preying on unprepared travelers.
Confident that the Ona’s skill in battle would place them in a sufficiently advantageous position, Pertinax decided to announce his presence in search for knowledge. The cloaked captain revealed himself by greeting, “Hail!”
The bandits, shocked by the stranger, stood and drew their weapons in preparation for violence, rusty iron clinging. One of them moved towards Pertinax and casually said, with a hardened coarse voice and an equally rugged tone, “Looks like we don’t need to go very far to hunt, boys!” The man smiled.
“I only seek information regarding these lands, friend. Perhaps we can work some arrangement to benefit the both of us.” Pertinax stood casually - too casually for a man facing foes, Ganis thought – and had his hand resting on the tilted sharpened staff.
“How about
this ‘arrangement’?” He looked back at his men and smiled, revealing a set of exceedingly decayed teeth, “Give me all you have, and I’ll think about letting you live.” The bandits burst into menacing laughter.
“So be it.” Pertinax raised his arm, gesturing a command to his hidden cloaked allies who unleashed half a dozen arrows from the cover behind him. His stance never changed and his hand never strayed from the staff.
Two of the bandits dropped immediately, each with three arrows protruding from their chest. Then a roar signaled the arrival of Sigurd, a monstrously large bald man, who slashed away at the enemies with his dagger and a wooden staff nearly as tall as he was.
Once a foe was struck down by Sigurd, he grabbed the ownerless rusty sword while the lifeless carcass fell bloodied and soiled. Sigurd was now properly armed. The warrior slashed and hacked to protect Pertinax’s side and remained in this position. A bear fighting cubs.
Then Hephaestion entered the skirmish, firing an arrow into the right eye socket of another bandit. In one swift swoop he reached for the stock in his quiver and drew his second arrow, standing ready by Pertinax’s other side in perfect stillness.
Ganis watched the Parthans fight in their organized manner which left the enemy confused and helpless. Not all of her companions were given an opportunity to show their skill, but she saw enough to determine the exemplary level in which the Ona fought. The bandits never had a chance.
Throughout the fight, Monolos and Eirene remained behind to protect the pups they had picked up earlier. Judging from how the fight went, their involvement was not necessary.
The only enemy left alive was the bandit leader who had addressed Pertinax earlier. The man had the tendons of his legs and right arm cut. Although he was knowingly experiencing the last moments of his sinful life he plead for mercy – a mercy he never gave to those who begged it from him.
“You will now tell me everything I want to know, if you do not mind,” grabbing his comb to fix his hair, Pertinax said. His voice was calm and calculating.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” the bandit said, crying with fear and agony.
“Who are you?”
“I go by the name of Scavenger, and I lead…led this group of cutthroats. We preyed on travelers heading to Hearthdale.”
“Where is Hearthdale?”
“A half day’s march from here towards the direction you were heading. It’s a small community that has no means of defending itself except by hiring mercenaries and bounty hunters. Please show mercy!”
“Is there a bounty on your heads?” Sigurd interfered.
“Yes, it’s not much though. I can turn myself in if you want. Please don’t kill me.”
“Tell me, Scavenger, how often is it that you showed mercy to those who pleaded it from you as you do from me now?” Pertinax’s question caused no response from the bandit save for his widening eyes.
“Thank you for your cooperation. You have earned my mercy.” Pertinax signaled a gesture to Sigurd and the Turian slashed at the prisoner’s neck; decapitating him in one swoop with the rusted blade.
Ganis watched in shock, and lust for blood, as everything she thought about Pertinax was proved wrong. His fairness and kindness were now in question. The flowing blood made it difficult for Ganis to control her urge to gluttonize on the fresh corpses, but Asclepius’ training proved stronger than the lust.
While Sigurd was bagging the bandit’s heads and the others looted the corpses, stripping them of all they could use, Ganis heard a faint whisper coming from one of the sealed packages resting on a large tree nearby.
She approached a leather-covered object and held it towards her ear. The whisper faded into silence, making her doubt ever hearing the sound. Curious, she opened it to find a masterwork sword. The steel blade glowed with a silver shine, except for its blackened edges and hilt wrapped in brown leather strips which formed two loose laths dangling from it. Ganis had never seen a weapon as beautiful as the blade she held in her hands; and she had seen a fair share of weapons.
Ganis called for Pertinax to report her finding. Once he approached, she showed him the blade, “I found this. It is a fine weapon.” She eyed it admiringly.
Grabbing the artful sword and artistically holding it in the light for a better look, Pertinax said, “Indeed a fine blade.” The captain then shouted, “Thalia!”
The artisan quickly came towards her leader who offered her the blade, “A fine blade.” She then examined it closely to determine the quality of its make and its sturdiness. “The edges are sharp and the balance perfect.”
“As the one least attuned to our Ona, Ganis will wield the blade,” Pertinax announced. He then handed the blade to Ganis and advised, “Use it wisely.”
“I’ll make a fitting sheath for your new blade. What name will you give it?” Thalia asked, blue eyes fixed on Ganis.
“A blade of this quality has certainly been given a name once. Until I find it, it will remain unnamed.”
Thalia nodded in agreement.
It did not take the Parthans long to pack their loot and resume their journey towards Hearthdale, the town on the edge of the forest. At last they had a destination.
6
Hearthdale was a small quiet village located at the edge of the eastern forest of Utyirth. The town had many wooden scaffolds neatly placed around the inhabited wooden structures, of which all had been cleared from snow. At the entrance of the undefended town, a noisy inn and a trader’s shop greeted the visitors.
All buildings were entirely constructed with wood lodged from the nearby forest and had tilted roofs, owing their make to the rainy and snowy climate of Utyirth. A snow-covered path marked by footprints indicated the roads attaching the structures of Hearthdale together.
The populace greeted the strangers warmly in spite of being armed, a reaction Ganis did not expect. Pertinax casually led his hooded crew into the loud inn.
The large structure’s interior was simple, matching its exterior. Round wooden pillars supported the second floor as well as the roof.
Various tables of different sizes and shapes occupied the central area of the lobby, which was used to serve food and beverages to the patrons. Like the tables, there was no conformity in the design of the wooden chairs. At the corner near the entrance of the inn, a bartender prepared drinks for the customers. Facing the bar was a railless wooden staircase leading to the second floor where rooms for rent were prepared for customers.
Pertinax and his escorts walked into the tavern and headed towards the largest empty table with seating for six. Sigurd, Ganis, Monolos, Dindrane and Percival remained standing while the others sat. With a mere eye gesture, Monolos got permission to be relieved. He left his leather bag behind and departed, as Percival and Dindrane started to mingle.
“Take Ganis with you to collect the bounty,” Pertinax commanded Sigurd, producing the comb to ensure his white hair was properly fashioned.
Sigurd immediately took leave with his bulky package, red marking its bottom. Following her quiet companion, Ganis clumsily ambulated towards the bartender.
“Where do I collect bounty?” with no introductions or greeting formalities, Sigurd asked the barkeep, green eyes staring intently. His gaze reminded Ganis of a lion’s when on the prowl.
Shocked and frightened by Sigurd’s straight-forwardness, the man replied, voice shaking and hands tucked under the wooden bar, “Bounties are collected in the Guard House. Once you exit the inn, you will find it on your left. A carved wooden plank indicating the structure is placed atop of the entrance.”
The Guard House was located, as indicated by the bartender, to the left of the inn. Ganis found herself staring at another wooden building surrounded by a short crude stone fence. Other than indicating the perimeter of the Guard House, the stone wall had no practical use.
Sigurd entered the Guard House without taking a moment to check the sign which had been described by the bartender earlier. Ganis noticed the similarity b
etween the written language and that of Nosgard, an observation that Sigurd noticed, but did not care about.
Internally, the Guard House was identical to the inn the Parthans had visited earlier, except for the bar, tables and chairs. The locals were not a creative people, Ganis though.
Three square tables were centered parallel to the walls with two chairs placed between each wall and its corresponding table. A weapon rack equipped with crude iron short swords decorated the walls to the right of the entrance, while another rack ahead of it had five bows and seven quivers, each containing ten poorly-crafted arrows. To the right of the entrance, a parchment with a few names and figures hung on a wooden plank.
A few, poorly armed men and women engaged in idle conversation while they waited for the end of their shifts. Sigurd immediately headed towards them and said, “Where can I collect bounty?”
The five guardsmen looked at the Turian with shocked expressions and one of them replied, “Bounties are turned in here and collected from the Hearthwarden. Have you captured one of the criminals on that list?” The guardsman pointed at a list containing names, of which some were accompanied by poorly-drawn sketches.
Sigurd headed to the nearest wooden table and slammed the large blood-stained leather bag he carried on it, opening it to reveal its bloody contents. Not used to many successful bounty hunters, the guards were petrified with disbelief.
“Who’re these?” a guardsman asked.
“A man who referred to himself as Scavenger and his band,” Ganis quickly replied.
One of the guardsmen - the captain, Ganis though - clumsily headed to the wooden table opposite to the door and immediately started writing on an empty yellowed parchment with a feather, inking the feather as it dried. Once he had finished, he used the red candle lighting the room to stamp the note shut with his seal ring.
“Take this note and give it to the guard protecting the Heart of the Hearth. It’s the circular building in front of this one. You should be paid a total of one-hundred-and-fifty-five oboi, one hundred for Scavenger and another fifty-five for his companions.
“Please feel free to scan the wanted list if you’re interested in other jobs. These criminals are beyond our ability to manage.” Shaking, the inexperienced guard handed the sealed note to Sigurd, who took it with a grunt earning him weary looks from the guardsmen.
Sigurd and Ganis headed towards the central structure to collect their bounty without further exchanging words. Ganis’ keen hearing allowed her to hear the murmur of the impressed guards while they left, “Who are these folk?”
“Ganis!” a hissing sound addressed the moroi. She suddenly stopped and looked at her rugged comrade while asking, “Did you say something?”
Continuing to walk toward the Heart of the Hearth, Sigurd shook his head sideways, not even glancing at her direction. It was not him.
I must be exhausted from all the traveling, so exhausted that I’m hallucinating, Ganis thought.
Once they reached the central structure, Sigurd handed the sealed note to the man guarding the stone building. The seal indicated the purpose of the note to the guard.
Without hesitation, he rushed into the round building, leaving his companion alone with the two Parthans. A few moments later a man wearing a rusty suit of iron armor, clinging as he moved, appeared and introduced himself, “Greetings travelers! I’m the Hearthwarden, elected leader of this town–”
Sigurd interrupted the man, “Where’s our bounty?”
The mayor pulled a large coin purse from inside his red cape and handed it over to the quick-tempered Parthan. “Come back anytime.” Frightened by the veteran bounty hunters, the mayor refrained from tempting their seemingly violent nature with anything he thought they could interpret as provocation.
Sigurd shot a glance at Ganis; it was an order to take and carry the purse. Once their pay was in their possession, the Parthans returned to the inn where their comrades waited.
Ganis immediately headed to the round table where Pertinax and the others sat. She rushed towards them and placed the heavy coin purse on the table, “We got paid, yet I don’t know what value it’s worth here.”
“I have already arranged for our accommodation. Three rooms are being prepared as we speak.” Without any other additions to convey, Pertinax continued to discuss the works of Soren the Wise, one of Nosgard’s great philosophers, with Hephaestion.
With no more assignments, Ganis took the opportunity to observe her comrades. Percival sat on the bar and engaged in a flirty conversation with two waitresses. Like her brother, Dindrane mingled with the male clients. Although the twins had been gathering information regarding their missions, they seemed to be enjoying themselves. It was not work to them.
Except for Monolos, the other Parthans sat with Pertinax and listened to the heated debate, yet not intently. Monolos was nowhere to be found. Yet Ganis knew that he was accompanied by his hawk and the three pups.
It was not long before a waitress appeared from the second floor and informed Pertinax that their rooms were ready. The news brought rest to Ganis, who did nothing but strolled around the inn, attempting to appear busy.
Without speaking, the Parthans took their equipment and retired to their rented quarters. The stairs led to a corridor on the second floor with ten doors, five on each side. Dark wooden planks used to construct the buildings in Hearthdale decorated the floor, walls and ceiling. How dangerous, Ganis though at the prospect of spending a night in such a flammable structure.
The men automatically entered the room on the right, and the four women entered the second. Pertinax reserved a room by himself.
Inside their simple quarters were four beds and one large closet. Each wooden bed was covered with a yellowish white fabric, with its unique pattern of stains. The edges of the wooden furniture were rough and uneven. There was a small window with murky glass that allowed the setting sun to light the room. Candles were placed on uneven rusty iron bars protruding from the walls. The bedcovers and curtains were made of the same coarse fabric which Gains was certain would irritate Eirene’s soft fair skin; a thought not entirely unpleasant to her.
Exhausted from their journey, the warrior women immediately undressed and uncovered their beds. Beneath the rough bedcover were soft clean sheets, contradicting the rest of the material around them. With no fear of ambush or other threats, the Parthans allowed themselves to sink into a deep and much needed sleep.
7
The Siren’s Tear had just set sail, before Ganis set foot on Utyirth. She was contemplating her training with Asclepius back in Katabasis when she was interrupted by the twins, Percival and Dindrane. The two redheads approached her merrily as they shared jokes and giggles amongst themselves. Both had long red braided hair tucked into the back of their shirts. They were small of stature, a good build for swiftness.
At first, Ganis thought that they were just passing by, but then they came and stood beside her as they leaned on the edge of the ironwood deck. Ganis found herself surrounded by the two twins whom she knew nothing about; and only recently identified them as part of Pertinax’s crew.
“That stiff captain of ours ordered us to talk to you,” Percival said.
“Brother, that’s a rude way of approaching a lady. Have I taught you nothing?”
“Apologies. You look rather ravishing this evening, milady.” He bowed courteously, yet humorously. “May I offer you a drink?” Percival produced a well-abused steel flask, scratched and dented from all sides, and held it up to Ganis, revealing a tree-like pattern which appeared to Ganis as a once-beautiful inscription.
“Careful! I’m not one to be taken lightly and accustomed to so quickly,” rather annoyed by his overly friendly approach, Ganis confronted the young man. She had grown intolerant by hunger.
Flicking his red braided hair which had come undone with his bow off of his right shoulder, Percival bowed apologetically to Ganis. When he rose again, Ganis noticed the subtle grey color of his eyes. “I was only int
ending to convey a friendly demeanor to our newest comrade. Forgive us, we are not yet accustomed to your likes and dislikes.”
“I hope my brother has not bothered you, for he always assumes that others would not mind his directness.”
“I apologize for behaving with such hostility. I was just dwelling on a painful experience,” while turning to face Dindrane, Ganis said. She took the opportunity to observe the woman’s features more thoroughly. The siblings shared the exact same features with the only difference being the influence their gender had on their bodies. Percival was slightly taller and more muscular, but the difference was negligible.
“Would you like to tell us about these memories in hopes of alleviating them?” greatly minding his tone, Percival offered.
Just before Ganis was about to reject the offer, she realized that this was the perfect opportunity for her to test their belief in her refined background story. After a brief pause, Ganis said, “I was orphaned at a young age and forced to join the Peacekeeper Core. Ever since that day, I have been making wrong decisions.
“In spite of being a Protector Commander, I was not fit for command. My final decision to oppose the current Emperor Servak during the rebellion was by far the worst, for it bound me to the Necromancer, Asclepius, and his dreadful Katabasis.
“The time I wasted there, following some mindless orders, cost me an opportunity to redeem myself during the Behemoths’ War. I must make amends for all the harm I have done.” She turned to look at Dindrane first then Percival, and said, “That’s why I’m here. To make amends.”
“Sister, do you think now is a good time to tell her of our story?” Percival took another sip of his flask.
Dindrane nodded, letting her brother continue.
“Dindrane and I were born in exiled Partha. We were poor and had to live on the kindness of others, or our own cunning. Naturally, we resorted to theft. One day, a glorious group of warriors appeared in our part of the town. They carried themselves with an air of confidence and pride. It was then that Dindrane and I decided to be more than common thieves.
“So we sought them out,” Dindrane continued her brother’s story, “and they saw our potential as spies and, later, as assassins. Our mother died just a few seasons later, leaving us to our unguided foolishness.
“When Lyra arrived, our leader decided to join forces with the exiled Gallecian. Our days as spies and assassins made us grow quite the reputation and led to our discovery by Lyra. She invited us to join her own personal guard.” Throughout her narration, Dindrane looked at the stars above.
“Our pasts are similar, but we grew to be rather different from one another. Perhaps this would make things easier for me,” Ganis said. Part of her words where honest, yet most were meant to maintain her identity secret. Asclepius did warn her about revealing her Dark Gift, but he never told her to whom, and thus she hid it from all.
“It’s truly an honor to have you with us. Can I call you beautiful now?” Percival joked.
“Only if you want to be clobbered to near-death.” Ganis never appreciated such comments. She remembered her days in the Peacekeeper Core and how she punished those who made such remarks. Perhaps, she thought, it would be possible to do so now, but then again, no one aboard the Siren’s Tear would accept whipping a man for such a harmless act of indecency.
Not knowing whether she was joking or not, Percival released a fake laugh. Ganis’ joining in greatly relieved the young man, and real laughter echoed. Lightly and merrily treading away from Ganis, the twins continued to the lower decks.
The conversation with Percival and Dindrane stirred Ganis’ thoughts. She was confused, a confusion that made her eager to return to Katabasis Keep. The place she once dreaded had somehow become the place where she felt the most comfort.
8
Although highly unconventional and rare for Parthan Onas to split its members, Pertinax knew that the only way for them to successfully maintain their identities secret was to busy themselves with work while they familiarized the natives to them. This plan required them to split themselves into two groups, one to within Hearthdale and the other outside.
Oboi was not yet necessary for the Parthans, yet its abundance would greatly facilitate their quest, and its scarcity would endanger it. As the highest paying occupation, bounty-hunting was prioritized. Ganis, Sigurd and Monolos were led by Pertinax in this endeavor.
Eirene volunteered to work at the humble orphanages in the northern section of the village while she gathered information. She also agreed to care for the three pups they had rescued earlier in lieu of the traveling Monolos.
One of the concerns the warriors had since their arrival was their poor equipment. To be granted access to facilities that would allow her to craft suitable weapons and armament, Thalia offered to work at the local smithy as a blacksmith. After completing her petty daily quota of weapons, she worked on crafting the favored weapons of her comrades.
She used the crude weapons collected earlier from the bandits to smelt and mix into a stronger metal. However, they were still inferior to the orichalcum weapons they were used to. Armor was crafted after the weapons were completed. For each of her companions, a differently designed suit of steel-reinforced leather armor was masterfully crafted. Being an artist, she did not ignore the aesthetics of her work and dedicated time for decoration; especially Sigurd’s uniquely massive armor.
Percival and Dindrane both volunteered to serve within the town’s local guards. They were initially provided with the crude uniform used by the guards, offering minimal protection and a false sense of security. However, their uniforms, as well as their weaponry, were quickly replaced by Thalia’s master-crafted gear.
In spite of not fully exploiting her talent when crafting the local armor and weapons, the artisan’s products were far finer than the former ones.
The twins, being offered such a unique opportunity to gather information, made the most of their post.
The local alchemist offered little more than a few unidentified herbs when Ninazu first came to her. After displaying his uncanny skill in the crafting of concoctions and the identification of herbs, the Turian was perceived as a valuable asset to the alchemist. She offered the outsider a humble sum of oboi for each potion he made, a share of her profits.
Finally, Hephaestion decided that it would be beneficial to study the available maps of Utyirth and found such opportunity at Hearthdale, with native maps sold in local shops and the comfort of a proper study.
With great skill to add to Hearthdale, the Parthans were warmly accepted into the small community.
It was not long until the strangers realized that the friendly town that had accepted them was hiding a great secret, a secret so well guarded that it silenced its occupants.